


Trouble

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy went up to talk to Charles and ended up getting stuck there due to a storm. It's either fighting with the students over the TV or cards with the man with glowing red eyes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble

Darcy walked out of Charles' office, slowly enough that she kept pace with his wheelchair. “Thanks, Charles. I'll let Bruce know what you said, he'll probably call you in a few days.” She looked down, giving him a wry grin. “It can take a bit to get him to surface from his lab.”

“Yes, I quite understand.” He glanced at the wide front door at the end of the hall, then his attention came back to her. “The weather's gotten quite bad, I don't think it would be safe to drive back right now.”

“Yeah...” Darcy made a face. She'd heard the rain pounding against the windows in Charles' office. The storm was raging, and it was set to stay for a while. “Yeah, I know. You mind if I crash here? I'll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.” It took all of her willpower not to look at the top of his bald head as she said that. It was an expression, dammit, not a pun.

He smiled, as though he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. “Of course. I'll have someone show you to the guest rooms.”

“That's okay, I remember where they are.” This wasn't the first time she'd spent the night in this particular building. “Thanks, Charles.” She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second and squeezed, and he reached up to pat her hand.

“You're welcome. Goodnight, Darcy.” He turned and went back into his office, leaving her there in the hall. She was glad things had worked out the way they had, it could have been quite... awkward, otherwise.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since she'd grabbed a bite on the road when she'd driven up that morning, and she walked through the winding halls until she got to the vast kitchen. Her memory hadn't failed her, she knew exactly where she was going.

The kitchen wasn't entirely empty. Hank was in there, getting himself a cup of tea. And someone... She'd never met before.

“Hank!” she greeted, arms out. She went to him and he folded her against him in a hug. “How are you?”

“Doing well. And you, my dear?”

She stayed snuggled up against him for a second, going up on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek as she pulled away. “Really good. Just came up here for business, and the storm...” She sighed, making a face. “Charles doesn't want me driving home tonight.”

There was sympathy in his warm eyes. “That's probably for the best.”

“I know. So you're stuck with me for the night.”

He smiled. “Don't cause too much trouble.” With one final pat to her back, he left the kitchen with his tea in one hand, a book tucked under the other.

The guy she'd never met was sitting at the table with a plate of some kind of rice dish, not even bothering to pretend he hadn't been watching and listening in. “ _Bonsoir_ ,” he said when he realized she was looking at him. One eyebrow twitched up, and a very charming smile came across his face. He wasn't bad looking. Longish brown hair, red eyes... Not familiar at all, either from someone she'd met in the present or someone she'd met on her journeys through time.

“Hi. I'm Darcy.” She turned away, intent on the fridge. Eating in the “staff” kitchen was always hit or miss. Most of the food was communal, but she'd received irritated texts the next day from someone whose special  _something_ had been stolen. Mostly Logan. Sometimes Scott.

“ _Bonsoir_ , Darcy, I am Remy.” He was up on his feet and behind her, she hadn't even heard him move. Fucking ninjas, she got enough of that around the tower. His voice was pleasantly accented in a French kinda way. Not like the France-French she'd heard a couple times in London, but something a little more... Southern.

“Hi, Remy. You wouldn't happen to know if there's anything in here that Logan forgot to label again, do you?” She glanced over her shoulder before turning back to open the fridge. He was tall, lean, and wore a long brown coat  _inside_ over a red shirt that looked suspiciously like silk. Whatever. Superheroes wore weird things out of habit, mutants were no exception.

“You're hungry? I can make something for you.”

She shook her head, eyes still moving over the contents of the fridge. “That's nice of you to offer, but I don't want to trouble you.”

“No trouble,  _chere_ .” His voice was laced with amusement, but she somehow got the impression that was fairly normal for him.

“Okay.” She shrugged. Whatever he'd been eating looked- and smelled- pretty good. She stepped out of the way and went to sit down at the table, just around the corner from where he'd been.

“How is it you know our Beast?” he asked, moving around over by the fridge and the counter.

“Time travel.” She nodded, watching his coat move as he started preparing  _something_ . “I was sent back in time about forty years, met him and Charles...” She shook her head. “Yeah, that was a trip. But it makes me 'qualified' to liaise between the X-Men and the Avengers, so I guess it all worked out.”

“You're unhappy,  _non_ ?”

“Just a bit frustrated. This isn't exactly how I planned on spending my evening. It only takes about an hour to get from here to home... Now I'll have to fight with the students over TV privileges.” She grinned, shaking her head. It wasn't that bad, just... Sleeping in a strange bed was tough. At least if the power went out, they'd be fine. It was really howling out there.

“I have a cure for that.” He looked over his shoulder at her, a grin on his face. He took one hand away from the stove and, with a flick of his wrist, produced a card.

Her lips curled up into a smile, eyebrows raising. “You mean showing me card tricks, or you actually want to play cards?”

“Which one will impress you more?” Remy quirked his eyebrow at her.

She actually laughed at that, bringing her arms up to rest on the table. “Actually, the cooking's doing a pretty good job of that. You know, as long as it tastes good.”

“I'm good at many things,  _chere_ .” He sort of grinned over his shoulder at her before returning to his cooking.

In just a short time, he was setting a plate full of rice, peppers, and what looked like sausage in front of her. “ _Bon appetit_ ,” he told her, handing her a fork with a flourish, and then pulling a bottle of cider seemingly out of nowhere, uncapping it before setting it on the table. He regained his seat to finish his own dinner, apparently not caring that it was cold now.

Darcy tried it. “This is really good,” she exclaimed around her mouthful of food. It was like flavor exploded in her mouth. Spicy, but not overpowering, slightly sweet...

There wasn't a whole lot of talking after that, Darcy was too busy moving fork-to-mouth. The cider was sweet, and somehow worked with the meal, and when she finished it, there was another bottle uncapped on the table beside the first.

Remy had taken out a deck of cards and was shuffling it as she finished her meal. She took one last bite and pushed the plate away from herself, showing that she was done.

Her eyes were fixed on where he was effortlessly manipulating the cards between his hands, not even looking at them. “I don't really know how to play. Tony and Steve tried to teach me poker, I am absolutely horrible at it. Apparently I have an expressive face.”

He smiled at that. “Blackjack, then? We could make it interesting.”

Darcy knew Blackjack. “I have a debit card and, like, ten cents in pennies at the bottom of my purse.” Which was actually still in her car, which was parked in the mansion's large garage.

His eyes moved meaningfully down to her shirt, and she started laughing. “Strip Blackjack?” She lifted the bottle of cider to her lips, shrugging. It wouldn't be the first time something weird had been turned into strip-whatever. “Sure, why not. But if Hank comes back in here and gets scandalized at the sight of my boobs, I'm blaming you.”

Remy picked the plates up, as well as her empty bottle, and carried them over to the counter. He came back and did some more impressive card shuffling, then nodded to the deck, so she'd cut it.

Darcy picked up about a third of the cards and put them down beside the other ones, stacking them back up. She watched as he dealt the cards, two for each of them. She had a six and a seven, he had a ten facing up. “Hit.”

He pulled a nine, and Darcy made a face. “Okay. This is gonna be over really quickly, isn't it?” She pulled her sweater off and set it on the chair beside her.

Not too long after that, she'd lost her shirt too, and had pulled it off to reveal her bra. It wasn't entirely a loss, though, Remy's long coat had come off. Someone was coming into the kitchen, though, and she looked up to see-

“Logan!” She jumped to her feet and went over to give him a hug. She always liked hugging Logan, he was only about an inch taller than she was.

“Hey, darlin'.” He returned her embrace, then pulled away. His eyes moved over her, maybe lingering a little at where her breasts where pressing up against her bra, then flicked back to the table where Remy was still sitting. “You let the Cajun talk ya into cards?” He shook his head. “First mistake. He's gonna have you naked in about thirty seconds.”

A look over her shoulder showed Remy grinning, entirely unrepentant. He merely shrugged, his eyebrow quirking.

“Figures.” She shook her head. “Thanks for the warning.”

“'Course.” He gave her one last look before heading to the fridge and pulling out his own beer. Popping it, he headed back out of the kitchen, shaking his head and smirking.

Darcy turned back to Remy, her hands coming up to rest on her hips. “That's your thing, isn't it?”

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled a card out of his sleeve and sent it slicing cleanly through the air, only to start glowing and actually explode on the other side of the kitchen. “That's my 'thing.'”

“Well.” She nodded, looking at where the thing had exploded, then back to him. “That's got to be handy.”

“It has been.”

Darcy walked back to the table, turning to sit up on it instead of taking her chair again. The cider had given her a pleasant buzz, and that accent was  _really_ working for her. “See, now I'm wondering if I should let you make me take all my clothes off with cards, or...”

“Or?” He pushed his chair back and stood, moving around the table until he was standing in front of her. “Or what,  _chere_ ?”

“Make you do it yourself.” Her hands came out, closing in the front of his shirt, and pulling him closer. He stepped between her legs, his hands coming to rest against the smooth wood table beside her hips as he leaned down to kiss her.

She ended up on her back on the table, Remy leaning into her with his hand on the back of her thigh hiking her leg up around his hip. His tongue was doing some sort of fluttering, rolling thing in her mouth, and she moaned in appreciation.

He pulled back to look at her. “We should move somewhere a little more... private?”

That was a pretty fantastic idea, but... “Okay, I get a guest room for the night, so if you have somewhere a little less guest-roomy, I'm totally in.”

He straightened up, offering her his hand. She let him pull her off the table, and she reached back to grab her clothes, hastily pulling them back on. She didn't  _want_ to, but there was a good chance there would be students up and about between the kitchen and wherever Remy was going to take her.

He took her hand again, leading her through the long, winding halls until she lost track of where she was. At last, though, he pushed open a door and gestured her inside.

Darcy went in. It looked like a room- probably his room. Tidy, but not  _clean_ , a pack of cards that appeared to be all aces strewn across a desk. “This is you?” she asked, turning to look at him as he entered behind her and closed the door.

“ _Oui_ .” There was a lamp beside the bed giving the room a dim light, but his eyes were glowing red in the dark, and she couldn't look away.

“Okay, stupid question, but is there any chance I could damage my eyes looking at you?” Because that would be good information to have.

Remy chuckled softly. He'd grabbed his coat on the way out of the kitchen, and he slung it over the chair at the desk, moving towards her. “ _Non_ . I'm not Cyclops.”

“Oh good.” She put her head back to look up at him as he came to a stop right in front of her. “That's good. They're very pretty.” Her hands were moving up to his shirt, pulling the top button free. “Taking off your clothes is much more fun.” The second button came after it, and then the next one and the next one until she was pushing his shirt open. “Way much more fun.” Her eyes fixed on his torso and she licked her lips as her gaze followed the lines of his muscles. This was pretty too, all hard ridges and carved lines.

On an impulse, she leaned forward and caught her teeth around one nipple, gently biting him. He let out a soft curse that didn't sound like English, so she did it again before moving down to fully explore his abs with her mouth. Her hands came up to his belt, and she undid it and pulled it open before undoing his pants and letting them fall to the floor.

Darcy straightened and pushed the shirt off of his shoulders before dropping down to her knees, looking up at him and grinning, her tongue caught between her teeth.

His cock was hard, bobbing pretty much in her face, and she closed her finger and thumb around it, pumping a couple of times before sliding back to hold him at the base. Her mouth opened, and she licked her lips and sucked him inside, hollowing out her cheeks around him. He tasted salty and slightly sweet, and she danced her tongue over the underside of his cock as she moved her mouth over him.

Remy threaded his fingers through her hair, his hand at the side of her head. A steady stream of French escaped his mouth as she bobbed up and down, reaching up with her free hand to gently cup his balls.

When she let her teeth move gently against him, he swore. “Stop,  _chere_ .” When she released him with an audible  _pop_ , he reached down and hauled her to her feet, a hand under each arm. “Any longer and it would be over.”

She shrugged one shoulder, licking her lips as she looked up at him. “That's fine with me, Remy.”

“ _Non_ ! Not yet.” He had her clothes off almost before she realized what was going on, and then he was guiding her back towards the bed, gently pushing her back until she was lying on her back. He climbed on after her, settling himself between her legs. His hands stroked lazily up and down over her thighs as he looked down at her, his eyes practically burning. “ _Tres belle_ ,” he murmured, his gaze tracing out the curves of her body. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

Darcy let one hand slide down her body, over her breasts, over her stomach. His eyes were glued to it as her hand slipped lower and lower. She let her fingers drift lightly over her center before circling three fingers in quick circles right over her clit. She watched him, took in the hunger in his expression as his eyes followed her movements.

One hand skimmed up her thigh, sliding in until he was pushing one long, dextrous finger into her pussy. His eyes lifted to her hers, and the smile he gave her when he took in her hooded eyes, her lower lip caught between her teeth was positively  _filthy_ . A second finger slid in alongside the first, and she let out a low moan at the stretch, her eyes fluttering closed.

Remy pumped his digits in and out, matching the rhythm of her touch against her clit. When he added a third finger, she cried out and pushed back against him.

Heat was quickly building, and when he crooked his fingers forward, she bucked up, her free hand grabbing for his arm as her orgasm crashed through her.

When her hand fell away, his fingers slipped free, and he opened his eyes to see him lifting them to his mouth to lick clean. She let out a low groan at the sight.

When his hands lowered to her hips, Darcy lifted her legs and hooked her ankles together behind his hips, pulling him forward. “You should be down here.”

He let himself fall over her, catching himself with his hands on either side of her. This close, she could see past the glow to see his actual eyes. “I like your eyes,” she told him, staring up at the irises, a dark crimson under all that glow. She scratched her nails gently down his chest, grinning a little smugly as he shuddered.

“ _Merci_ ,” Remy told her, looking a little surprised. She supposed he didn't get a lot compliments on glowing red eyes, that was a shame. “Do you have... protection?” When she nodded, he lifted one of her legs up, pressing it over her shoulder as he lowered his hips towards her. She reached down and took ahold of his cock, lining him up.

He surged forward suddenly, making her let out a yell and grab for his shoulders as he plowed into her until he was fully seated inside her cunt. “Fast?”

“Yeah.” Yeah, that sounded pretty fucking fantastic.

There was no build-up, no gradual increase in speed, he just started fucking her like he was trying to fuck her through the mattress. She lifted her hips to meet every thrust, the angle had him pushing so deep she thought she might be able to taste him.

He wasn't quiet, low grunts interspersed with rapid French, and she called out her pleasure in response. One hand raked across his shoulder, the other dropped between her legs to rub at her clit again until she was nearly hoarse from shouting.

“Remy!” She froze, every nerve ending straining towards him as the world thinned out to just the edge of pleasure, and then she let go, heat spreading through her as she fluttered around him.

The rhythmic pulse of her pussy triggered his own release, and he buried himself deep, a long string of French leaving his mouth.

He collapsed beside her, both gasping for breath. His arm was across her waist, fingers lightly stroking her side. “Maybe... Maybe you'll stay here instead of a guest room?”

Darcy sort of waved her hand at him. Her skin still felt like it was tingling. “I'm not moving. Can't move.”

He chuckled, turning his head to look at her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Trouble by Pink.  
> I'm trying my very hardest to pretend that X-Men Origins: Wolverine didn't happen, so I actually completely forget that Gambit was in it. So this is based on cartoon!Gambit.


End file.
